…
The takeout arrives twenty minutes later, and we end up sprawled on the sectional like a couple of teenage boys who’ve known each other forever, instead of two grown stepbrothers who’ve spent most of their lives carefully avoiding real time together.
The coffee table is covered in boxes and wrappers. I went with a creative pizza loaded with fennel sausage, caramelized onions, and hot honey. Rowan stuck with something safer… fries, a burger, the usual.
We flick through channels until we land on a stand-up special. The comedian is sharp and cynical, and before long we’re both laughing. My laugh comes out deep and low, rumbling from my chest. Rowan’s is quieter, more contained, a warm smile that tilts the corners of his mouth upward while a soft, breathy sound escapes from low in his throat, almost like he’s trying to hold it back but can’t quite manage it. It makes him look more relaxed than I’ve seen him in years.
For the first time in a long time, I feel genuinely comfortable around him. The silence between us doesn’t feel heavy. It feels… easy.
I glance over at Rowan as he reaches for another handful of fries. A rare spark of generosity hits me.
“Hey,” I say, holding up my slice. “Do you want to try my sausage…”
Rowan instantly chokes on the fries he just shoved into his mouth. His eyes go wide, and he starts coughing hard, shoulders jerking forward.
“Shit…” I lean over and clap him firmly on the back a couple of times. “You okay?”
He’s bright red now, smacking his own chest and reaching blindly for his water. After a few desperate gulps, he rasps out, “Do I want to try what?!”
I pause, replaying my words, then bark out a loud laugh as realization hits. “Mypizza,” I clarify, still chuckling as I hold the slice up higher. “It’s got sausage on it. Do you want a piece?”
Rowan stares at the pizza like it personally offended him. His gaze flicks up to mine, still flushed and wary. He shakes his head quickly.
I nudge the slice closer, my grin slow and deliberate. “It’s nice.”
Rowan opens his mouth to protest, but I don’t give him the chance. I lean in, crowding his space, and press the tip of the pizza firmly against his lips. He freezes, eyes widening as they lock onto mine. For a heartbeat, the air between us thickens. Then, without breaking eye contact, he obediently parts his lips and takes the bite I’m offering.
A low, satisfied sound rumbles in my chest. “Bite.”
He obeys instantly, teeth sinking into the crust and toppings while his gaze stays trapped on mine, wide and unsettled. The sight of him accepting the food from my hand sends a sharp, unexpected thrill through me. There’s something deeply satisfying about the way he yields so easily, no argument, no pushback. Just quiet compliance.
When he finally leans back against the couch, chewing slowly with flushed cheeks, I feel a dark rush of pleasure curl low in my gut at his obedience.
Chapter Six
Cade
The social department is buzzing this morning… phones ringing, assistants hurrying between desks, the low murmur of deal-making and client schmoozing filling the open-plan office.
I sit in the large corner office that everyone already treats as mine, even if my father hasn’t officially handed over the title of Head of Social Affairs yet. He’s making me earn it, and honestly, I don’t mind. I like the grind. The power of it. The way people watch me when I walk through the floor, knowing I’m the one who decides which events get funded, which clients get the personal touch, and which partnerships get the charm offensive.
I lean back in the leather chair, reviewing the latest sponsorship proposal on my screen, when the door opens.
Dad steps in, already shrugging into his coat, looking far too pleased with himself for a Monday morning. “Cade, I’m heading out early. Your stepmother’s waiting downstairs, we’re spending the afternoon together.”
I nod, not surprised. He and Ann have always been glued at the hip since.
“I don’t want to run all the way up to the top floor right now,” he continues, holding out a thick manila folder. “This needsRowan’s signatures on the new police contract addendum. Can you take it up to him for me?”
I accept the folder without hesitation and flash him an easy smile. “Sure.”
Dad claps me on the shoulder once, already turning toward the door. “Thanks, son. See you tomorrow.”
The moment he’s gone, the smile on my face shifts into something sharper, more private.
Truth is, I haven’t spoken a single word to Rowan since Saturday night. He’s been avoiding me like I’m contagious… ducking into his room when I come home, leaving before I wake up, barely grunting in response when we pass each other in the kitchen. All because of that stupid pizza moment.
But every time I think about it, a slow grin creeps across my face anyway. The way he stared at me, wide-eyed and flushed. The way his lips wrapped around the slice when I held it to his mouth, sauce glistening on his lower lip, teeth grazing the crust while his gaze stayed locked on mine. The quiet obedience when I told him to bite. The way he leaned back afterward, chewing slowly like he was still tasting more than just the pizza.
